Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Sweden and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Duran Duran to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Liliput. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Donald Byrd,
the Slits,
Toni Rubio,
Marine Girls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bronski Beat,
La Düsseldorf,
Tom Boy,
Rekid,
Theoretical Girls,
Negative Approach,
Marc Almond,
Icehouse,
Sandy B,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bill Near,
Josef K,
Patti Smith,
Eric B and Rakim,
Flipper,
Half Japanese,
Boz Scaggs,
Anakelly,
Liliput,
Cheater Slicks,
Barbara Tucker,
Michelle Simonal,
DJ Sneak,
Roger Hodgson,
Goldenarms,
Hot Snakes,
Blossom Toes,
David McCallum,
Andrew Hill,
Terry Callier,
Second Layer,
Moebius,
World's Most,
The Pretty Things,
The Offenders,
Ohio Players,
Pierre Henry,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gang Starr,
Tres Demented,
The Associates,
Soft Cell,
Cameo,
Letta Mbulu,
Deadbeat,
Rites of Spring,
The Index,
Tubeway Army,
The Sonics,
The Monks,
X-Ray Spex,
Bluetip,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bauhaus,
Groovy Waters,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.